


Odd One Out

by Opalgirl



Category: Tortall - Pierce
Genre: AU, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-12
Updated: 2010-04-12
Packaged: 2017-10-08 21:40:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/79783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Opalgirl/pseuds/Opalgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of interconnected AU oneshots where Kel has joined the Riders. Written for Goldenlake's Tortall Fanfiction SMACKDOWN.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part I

Buri blinked at the quiet trainee who sat in the pool in the bathhouse, speaking just when she was spoken to, not joining in with the banter of her fellows.

_The odd one out_, she thought to herself. _Of course. There’s one every year_. This young woman was too large – too broadly built and too tall – for ponyback. She was, according to the talk, the daughter of a noble clan, who had wanted to train as a knight. Something had gotten in the way of that dream, and now she was mixed in with newest batch of green recruits.

“Trainee Keladry,” Buri said.

“Commander?” Clear hazel eyes, framed by long lashes, met hers squarely. There was a quiet determination in the face, more than what she normally saw in girls of fifteen.

“What made you decide to join up? We don’t often see noble trainees.” _And when we do get them, they almost all wash out within the week_, she added silently.

The girl shrugged and levered herself out of the pool. “I wanted to make myself useful, Commander. The Riders seemed a better fit than a more traditional role,” she said, reaching for a towel. Her face was carefully blank, no hurt showing in her expression.

Buri grinned. “I was going to say, if you joined up because your kin couldn’t feed you any longer, I don’t blame them.”

Keladry grinned back, and began to dress. “If my parents encouraged my choice, that was probably why.”


	2. Part II

There was never a complaint out of Trainee Keladry, Buri noticed, even when her fellow recruits were grumbling for all they were worth. The long days of training, the runs through mud and spring rains, and the evening lessons never drew a word from the girl. Even when she’d somehow gotten a face full of mud, there was nothing but an expression of grim determination.

She didn’t flinch when Sarge bellowed, and Buri never had to haul her from her bed in the morning. (Onua said the same, when it was her turn to rouse the girls). Keladry was far from perfect – her archery was passable at best, and her riding needed practice, among other things – but at least she didn’t _whine_. A blessing, that – if there was one thing she didn’t like, it was the whining of new trainees, who somehow hadn’t realized what they’d signed on for.

When Larse told her that he’d seen one of her trainees out in the meadow before dawn, armed with a ‘wicked-looking’ polearm, Buri didn’t believe him. If Larse was up at that hour, he’d probably had a bit to drink, and what trainee would be up at that hour? But, sure enough, when she went out at that hour of the morning, there was a figure, armed with such a weapon.

“Trainee,” she called, leaning on the fence, and Keladry spun her weapon so it rested on its butt end and turned to face her.

“Commander,” she said, her eyes widening slightly in surprise. “Good morning.”

“If you can call it that. Trainee Keladry, what is _that_?” Buri gestured needlessly to the weapon.

“A glaive, Commander. The Yamanis would call it _naginata_. Women are trained in its use in the Islands. I learned when I lived there, with my family.”

Buri whistled. “Impressive. When my second in command told me he’d seen someone out here with a polearm, I didn’t believe him. We have no call for long weapons like that – we leave that to the rest.”

Keladry shrugged. “There’s no room in the barracks to practice, and I find the practice helps.”

“Fair enough. So long as you’re still alive for turn out, I can’t say anything.”

On her way back from stables to barracks, Buri paused and watched the youngster twirl the weapon about her body, all grace and neat, fast slices. _That’s why she’s not tripping over her own feet at her size_, Buri thought, shaking her head. _It’s the practice._


	3. Part III

The summer training camp had gone wrong, in an instant. In an area that was supposed to have been cleared, part of the group of trainees had stumbled into a nest of bandits while hunting for their next meal.

Buri cursed bandits, the district’s soldiers, and trainees alike, as the injured were rounded up. By some stroke of luck, there had been no deaths among the recruits, but there were injuries – broken bones and small wounds.

“I can’t mend bone,” Onua said tiredly, “so we’ll have to make a stop - there aren’t any with the healing Gift in this batch.”

Buri growled. “I _despise_ recruits. Always getting into more trouble than you’d ever think they could.”

“Don’t hate ‘em,” Sarge advised, grinning at her. “There’s a village a few miles off, just over the rise – it’s not that far out of the way.”

*****

After talking with the recruits, Buri discovered that Keladry had stepped into command of them, when they ran into trouble, without their instructors present.

“Trainee Keladry,” she said, “your fellows say you’ve a knack for command.”

Keladry blushed, just barely. “Not really, Commander.”

“If you can keep a cool head in a scramble, that’s a start.” Buri noticed the bandage on the girl’s left arm, and the fresh graze from an arrow above her temple. “Most trainees would freeze and get themselves killed.”

“She’s not exaggerating,” Onua added, as she joined them. “Buri doesn’t exaggerate, and she doesn’t give praise lightly.”

The girl yawned, hugely, and turned her head at a call from her fellow trainees.

“Kel, _c’mere!_” called one, waving to her.

“Commander, Horsemistress – excuse me?”

“Go on, trainee.”

“And don’t overdo it,” Onua warned.


	4. Part IV

The Lioness and her squire joined their company for a short time, three days after the run-in with the bandits.

“Trailing along behind the Progress, no doubt,” said the Champion, stretching. “I’ll take your report, though. Queenscove, come here.”

Buri raised her eyebrows as she got a proper look at the lanky young man. “His Grace did let you out of Corus with his son?”

Alanna glowered at her. “And they let _you_ out into the wilderness with a group of trainees?”

“My lady?” prompted the squire, standing at ease.

“Stop standing about and see if you can’t make yourself useful – the trainees are pitching camp.”

***

Kel blinked, as someone pried the mallet from her fingers. “Mithros, girl, if you keep that up, you won’t have fingers left,” said a light male voice. “Were you _always_ such a disaster with a hammer?”

“Yes,” cried someone else, unseen, “she was.”

Kel kept a scowl from her face and looked up at the interloper. Lanky, with messy brown hair and green eyes, he wore a sword as if it were part of him. The badge on his sensible summer tunic was that of a gold lion rearing on a red field.

“Squire Nealan of Queenscove at your service,” he said, plainly hinting for her to introduce herself.

Kel swallowed. He was the _Lioness’s_ squire. “Keladry of Mindelan,” she said, when she’d contained herself. Then she remembered and bowed to the appropriate degree for the daughter of a baron – even one in royal favor - greeting the son of a ducal house.

The squire looked at the scene before him and shook his head. “Where may I be useful, Trainee Keladry?”

She studied him, thrown off by his behavior and dry speech. “If I’m such a disaster with a hammer, Squire Nealan, you can beat the pegs into the ground.”

  


****

“She’s not ten feet tall, like the stories would have you believe,” Buri murmured. It was shortly before dawn, and she was up out of long habit, while most of the camp still slept. Trainee Keladry, who was now known among the recruits as simply Kel, had been up and practicing when she’d emerged from her tent.

“Hmm?” Keladry said, quietly, plainly distracted.

“The Champion – she’s not really ten feet tall.”

There was a wistful, almost hurt expression on the young woman’s face, just for a moment. “When I was little, I wanted to be her.”

Buri smiled. “You weren’t the only girl who wanted to be the Lioness.” She almost wanted to ask what had stopped Kel from entering page training, but didn’t want to pry. The younger woman kept her privacy, and Buri respected that. If they were going to be up around the same hour routinely, they might get to know each other better.

 


	5. V - End.

When one of the Riders out of Group Askew puts in his resignation, leaving to marry and take up a position teaching combat, Buri considers her options to fill his spot. Larse is happy with his command of the Seventh, and she needs him where he is. For all his sometimes-childish behavior and his silly streak, Evin has a talent for getting things done.

There are a few veteran Riders she ought to consider for the spot, and she knows she should, but she keeps thinking of young Keladry of Mindelan, who is now second in command of the Twelfth, and working her way up to command, or so it appears.

Kel’s cool head and sensibilities are just what Askew needs, where they often ride closest to the monarchs, and of course, find themselves mired in trouble more often than not. The young woman can think on her feet, and can deal with people as easily as she can give orders.

Before she can overthink it, Buri writes a request to the Commander of the Twelfth, and tells herself that it is not because she wants to see the woman more often.


End file.
